


Dangers Untold, Hardships Unumbered

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Labyrinth Fusion, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 09:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1977468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of one John Hamish Watson, aspiring thespian, who caught the eye of a Goblin King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangers Untold, Hardships Unumbered

The young knight comes running through the glen, sword still drawn as he emerges from the heated battle he had just won. The golden haired youth cries out, his tenor like a clarion call in the small drove. His beloved is finally safe within his grasp.

“It is you... your Highness?” The youth kneels and offers his sword flat on both palms as his eyes look on adoringly, memorising the royal’s face. “Do not be swayed by my pleasure at the sight of you, my lord...” He grimaced, the words bitter in his mouth. John hated to refuse his betrothed at their first meeting. “Though my father, the Duke, has promised you my hand, I cannot consent to be yours until the evil that stalks our land from highest hill to deepest dale is...” 

A look of confusion crossed his face. Something was very wrong.

“... from highest hill to deepest dale ...” The knight cleared his throat. He knew the words; had rehearsed them. “... from highest hill to deepest dale ... DAMN!”

The epitaph flew from his lips as John tossed the sword mightily onto the verdant green grasses at his feet and pulled at a pocket to yank out a book. The youth rifled through the thin pages grumbling to himself until he felt a nudge at his thigh that quickly becomes a pawing.

“If you value your mangy life, Merlin, you'll stop it now.” White and grey long hair flopped over the book, the sheepdog was obviously intent on playing. “Merlin, come on... I have to have this memorised...” 

Just then the bong of the town’s clock caught John’s attention. Swearing once again he grabbed his sword, sheathing it and ran towards his home, Merlin in tow. Why did this have to happen? He’d had rotten luck lately, then mum and dad, and now he was late to babysit... Why him? He was good and fair. These things shouldn’t happen to him. He had this play to study for May Day... he’d never get it all down at this rate.

“Damn, damn, damn! Mum is going to _skin_ me, Merlin!” John ran at full speed, bursting through the copse of trees closest to the manor. As if John hadn’t had enough, it began to rain. “Yes, perfect this! Buggering hell!”

He skidded to a halt on the packed gravel just before their main entrance, his step-mum already in the entry as he opened the door.

“No, John - that _thing_ can go around and be dried in the mudroom. Do not traipse it through here.” Her voice was stern. He hated this. How he was treated like a child of course he would have cleaned up after his own pet.

“But Mum, Merlin will catch his death if-” 

“No, go out, take it to the back and tether it by the mudroom, John. Now.”  
“Fine.” The blond grinds out and goes back out in the rain and takes his shepard around to almost the back of the house by the solarium. As he tethers the leash to the spike he has hidden he smiles sadly. “It’s only for a few moments. I’ll get you in and dry, I promise Merlin.”

As he stands he misses the white owl looking down from the eaves at the exchange, but the dog does not. He looks up and growls a low wuff. The owl only ruffles and resettles his feathers in answer.

~

Once in, John heads straight to his room slamming his door and heading to his bath, stripping out of his wet costume as he goes. “How am I supposed to... be this _Knight_ if she keeps on me this way... I need to be chivalrous. Kind. Sure. Not settled with a-”

“With a what son?” His father asked from his doorway. Shit. 

John flushed and cowed, knowing his temper had gotten the best of him again. 

“Sorry dad, just _she_ can be so horrible-”

“She’s not you mum. I know Johnny, but your mum... she’s gone.”

“I-I know dad.” The young man felt tears begin to burn his eyes. “I know.”

“Look, we’ll be leaving soon. Harriet’s already in her nursery... just be quick in the shower. There’s dinner in the kitchen for you.” His father walked up to him and patted his shoulder. “Now hurry and get out of the rest of those... that costume.”

John nodded and finished stripping the wet things and hopped into the hot shower just as the tears finally escaped. 

“Miss you mum, so much. You would’ve been so proud of me; not called my practices stupid. Would’ve run lines with me...” He choked on a sob and tried to calm himself as the water sluced over him. He shook his head and began quickly washing up so he could go check on Harriet. “Please, be asleep...”

Everyone was so demanding. He had to be the man he was born to be. The good son, Eton and Oxford. Great big brother and step-son. He wanted none of it. He wanted the stage and excitement. The thrill of the bustle of the backstage and the heat of the stage lights. Where was his life heading? Why couldn’t he choose? Calling the shower done, he shut the taps off and then toweled swiftly and dressed. He had a baby to sit after all.

“Merlin!” He cursed himself as he went down the hall to check on Harriet. 

He’d needed to get to the poor dog before long. It wouldn’t do for him to be that wet for an extended amount of time. Harriet though, was her usual precocious self and was standing cooing in her crib.

“Of course you’re awake.” He spoke to her as he spotted her teddy. “Threw him out did you... you know if I were cruel, I’d not give him back. You really shouldn’t treat him so.”

As if telling the toddler this would even help.

“He’s mine anyway... his name is Lancelot. Why she gave you my favourite... I keep telling her not to, but that woman does not understand what he means to me.”

John picks up a frog prince doll and hands it to his sister instead. 

“This is yours... now go to sleep.”

John left the room and went down to take care of the ragamuffin mop of animal he had promised to clean up.

~

“Merlin, come on then.” John cajoled the now dry mop of a dog up the stairs. “She’s quiet and you can go in my room, yea?” The dog had stopped on the stair and growled low, then with a whuf sat down and refused to move. “Come on boy, I have to check on her...”

The dog looked at the blond with a whine and then began up the stairs once again. John wondered what had the sheep dog in a mood and then remembered the storm that was picking up and how animals could sense these things.

“Look, it’s alright,” John ran his fingers through the scruff. “We’re not in the America’s are we? No funnel clouds could take this place at any rate.”

He smiled down at Merlin as he let the dog into his room. Poor thing wasn’t happy at all tonight. Oh, well, he could get himself onto John’s bed and take the thing over. Always seemed to make him happy, ever since he was a pup.

John sighed to himself as he went down the hall to Harriet. He could hear her and by god if she wasn’t still awake. Mum would have his hide if the toddler wasn’t asleep by the time they got back, teething or not. He opened the door and looked straight away at the crib.

“Harriet, why did you through your frog out? You know I won’t keep fetching it for you.” He grumbled. The girl was in a mood and he had little patience of his own tonight. “I’m supposed to be studying my lines, sister. Go. To. Sleep.”

The toddler took the frog and whimpered and then threw it against the rails beginning to cry.

“Oh, fine.” He picked her up and jostled her a bit as he walked her. John remembered that she liked rhythms, so the slight rocking should help he reasoned. “Want a story then? Is that it? Harriet, I don’t know what to do...”

John shushed her and walked her a few moments before giving it up as a bad job. 

“Fine, a story... Once there was this handsome prince who had a horrible step-mother and a father so in love with her he practically ignored his son and young daughter. This meant that the young and virile prince _always_ had to stay home with the baby. This little girl was a spoiled and selfish little princess. She could never be content. How could he become a knight to win his true love’s hand if he was always tied down with the babe? The prince was practically a slave...”

The young man moved around the nursery as the storm raged on outside, walking his sister hopefully to sleep. 

“But, what no one knew, is that the Goblin King had fallen in love with him and gave him certain powers. He had refused to use them, choosing to be a just and noble prince. One that could hold his temper. But on a particularly cruel night, when the storms were high and the parents had been unbearable and even the princess would not be soothed, he called out for help...”


End file.
